Depth of Pain
by entwined foreveR
Summary: Why are you on the floor?" "Because that is where I always am." "What depth of pain have you suffered Weasley, to make you look like this?" - A story of hidden pain, masks of happiness, the purest love and the deepest hate. DM/GW/B
1. Slow Dancing In A Burning Room

1: Slow Dancing In A Burning Room

She was tired. She was scared. She felt so very alone.

"Mom? Dad? I'm sorry, I don't know what I've done, but I am so sorry. Please, just let me out. Please…"

She was crouched with her cheek against the door, small shoulders shaking with pain. A muttered spell jerked the door, bruising her delicate face.

"Please! I'm begging you! I'm sorry, I'm sorry that I was born, sorry that I am me, I don't know, I'm just sorry. Please, please, please…"

Molly Weasley's voice floated through the door, "Ginny dear, we are so glad that you know that you are wrong. It's lovely to hear your apologies, but your father and I think it would be best if you stay in there for a bit longer. You may forget what you've done if we let you out too soon."

She clung to that lifeline, her nails scrabbling at the door as she wept in desperation. "Mum, please! I won't forget, I promise. I want to come out, please let me out!"

Short footsteps echoed away, she could picture the plump figure and face to which those footfalls belonged. She slumped to the floor, knowing that they wouldn't come back until the morning. Curling into a small ball, she let the demons of the night overpower her mind.

"Let me die. Please, let me die. If there is someone listening, stop my heart… please."

:::::

He sighed, letting his fingers wander up and down the back of his lover; so content, so warm, so loved.

"Mon amour?" [My love]

His lover stirred, his beautiful hazel eyes cloudy with sleep as his lids parted. He hummed a response, low in his throat.

"Rien… I don't know why I woke you. Sorry." [Nothing]

A chuckle echoed in the chamber, "I love you Draco, but try not to wake me. You know I'm crabby if I don't get enough sleep."

He smiled, a slow sensual smile, reserved only for his lover. His lovers' hand smoothed his hair and his lips touched his temple, "Lets go back to sleep."

"Je vous aime aussi Blaise." [I love you too]

Bodies entwined as the lovers drifted slowly back into slumber.

:::::

Ginevra felt her heart flutter as her mother held her in a tight hug, brushing her hair back affectionately. "Write to us every week Ginny. Don't forget my dear."

_Get away from me, don't touch me, Merlin, please don't touch me._

"I will Mum, I won't forget." A smile lightened her face.

"Bye, Gin-Bug." Her Dad enveloped her in a hold that felt more like suffocation than a farewell. Ron, Harry and Hermione were already on their way to the train, she itched to join them in their escape.

"Bye Dad, miss you already." She hurried to her baggage, throwing it on her back and turned to smile one last time at her parents before she walked to the train. She measured her pace, so she didn't' look as if she was running away. Once they were out of view she pummeled her way through the crowd to the first empty compartment she could find. Slamming the door shut, she turned her back and slid down to the floor. Her legs felt like they had melded to the floor. The smile plastered to her face crumpled into a grimace of pain. Tears flowed down her face and she bit her fist to muffle the sounds of her violent weeping.

:::::

Blaise stared at the crowd of Hogwarts students impassively. Hearts were breaking as he walked along the train platform, heading towards his best mate and lover. He smiled inwardly as he caught sight of a man with a form as familiar to him as his own. He would never get tired of looking at him. "Draco," He greeted, "Find us a compartment yet?"

"No. I saw Pansy and Daphne in one, but I didn't feel like joining them when Terence and Goyle were present as well." His lovers' icy eyes shone with amusement and slight nausea.

"Sweet Merlin, let's find our own carriage then." Blaise's tone of voice was dispassionate, but his eyes twinkled back.

The two Slytherin's strode onto the train, glancing in compartments. Their robes billowed behind them, leaving a trail of their mixed cologne's and giggling females. Blaise wrenched a compartment open and stepped inside, followed closely by Draco. Blaise paused his second step in mid-air as he realized it would come into contact with a small bundle of robes in the middle of the compartment floor.

"Draco, stop, I think this carriage is occupied." His hand pushed lightly at the center of Draco's chest.

The pitiful mound of second hand robes shifted then shaped itself around a thin body as Ginevra stood. "No, you can have it. I'll just get my things."

"Why were you lying on the floor Weasley?" Draco asked neutrally. Blaise looked at his lover with surprise.

**_This_**_ is the girl Weasley?_

:::::_  
_

Ginevra woke quickly as the door slid open. She froze, slightly confused and scared.

_Dear Merlin. They've come on the train to take me back home._

A voice that sounded like chocolate, if a voice could, spoke, "… I think this carriage is occupied."

She rose and spoke quietly, unsure of what to say as she stared at the two men before her. "No, you can have it. I'll just get my things."

Two pairs of eyes stared at her curiously, one pair was a blue so beautifully light that they were almost clear and the other pair was deep green, the color of forests forever vibrant. Their hair flowed around their faces, platinum blonde and raven black. Their skin glowed, pale white and rich tan. Her heart ached as she studied them. They both stood at 6'3, their bodies so alike they could have been twins. Well muscled, yet still lean, their long limbs moved with grace that years of Quidditch training entitled.

Another voice, deep and sure spoke, "Why were you lying on the floor Weasley?"

She curled into herself, "It doesn't matter does it. Just let me get my things and I'll leave."

:::::

Draco looked at her carefully. Lustrous locks of deep red shielded most of her face from his view. Pale skin, too pale. Judging from the muggle clothes beneath, he imagined that she had possessed more curves in the past. It was her eyes that riveted him. Well, the one eye he could see. Gorgeous doe eyes, chocolate brown, so innocent and sweet. Yet, as he stared, hidden was so much more. He knew that look.

_What depth of pain have you suffered Weasley, to make you look like this?_


	2. Crash Into Me

2: Crash Into Me

"I don't see why you need to know." Ginevra felt her toes curl, her pupils constrict in fear, but her face remained dead, her small form frozen.

Draco observed her silently, missing no small detail. _Weasley was a frightened little girl. _Blaise joined the conversation, curious, "Where are Potter, Granger and male-Weasley? I assume they are sharing this carriage with you."

"No." She decided to keep her answers short. These men were far too perceptive for her liking. "No, they aren't."

"Why?" Blaise probed.

"I don't know."

"Why don't you know?"

"Because I don't."

"You aren't going to tell us anything are you?"

"No."

Draco sighed, "Stop Blaise. Weasley, we will leave you be."

"If you want the carriage you can have it."

"No. You were here first." With a nod, Draco left.

Blaise turned to follow, but twisted around once more to the small form of the young Sixth year. "Weasley, why were you on the floor?" His eyes pierced through her, distanced and curious.

"Because that is where I always am. On the floor." She did not know why she had answered; maybe his eyes had hypnotized her.

Blaise nodded, a friendly gesture, rather than the curt dismissal that Draco favored, "I know that feeling. Goodbye Weasley."

As Blaise left the carriage, Ginevra slid once more to the floor.

_No one could understand this._

Seconds ticked by. Minutes ticked by. Hours ticked by.

"Ginny, what the hell? Get off the bloody floor! We are at Hogwarts."

"I'm coming Ron."

"About bloody time."

-----

Sitting on the floor of the astronomy tower, staring at the stars with unseeing eyes.

_If I were to die where would I go? And if I did go somewhere, what would the thing that would 'go' be? My soul, perhaps; the thing that looks out from behind my eyes. If my soul doesn't have eyes would it be able to physically see things, if my flesh didn't contain it? Would I wander aimlessly watching others move on, or go to a different dimension where souls go?_

Ginevra thought about death often. The word itself meant nothing, it was the implications it brought to mind that were important. Why she thought these thoughts, she didn't know. At least, that is what she told herself.

_You know why you think these things._

She screwed her eyes shut as she tried to drown her thoughts out. All she wanted was white noise. Blissful, mindless and peaceful white noise.

"Weasley, it's after curfew." It was that voice again, the voice full of comforting void, no emotion at all.

"Yes."

_Please keep talking_.

"Five points deducted from Gryffindor. Now go back to your dorm."

"May I stay? You've already taken points." Ginevra couldn't help it; she looked up, searching for the eyes that helped numb her thoughts.

Those beautiful doe eyes stared up at him, imploringly, expecting an immediate denial. Expecting? It was pitiful, for one to be conditioned to expect denial of even the smallest thing.

"Yes. You may." Draco said deliberately, studying her face.

Surprise flitted across her face briefly, then, a slight upward curve of her lip showed her thankfulness. "Thank you Draco."

He had made her smile. It took so little to make her happy. Sad. Silently, he sat down on the cold stone floor, about four feet away from her. She made no move to talk, nor did he. Instead she drew strength from the numbness he always brought with him, enjoying the beauty of the stars for the first time that night. Draco wondered why he had felt compelled to sit down. Weasley was of no importance to him. Only Blaise mattered, and himself of course. It felt surprisingly easy to make someone else happy. Someone who had a look in her eyes much like his mothers'. He winced inwardly.

Her eyes flicked over to his, as if sensing the inner thoughts that were plaguing his normally indifferent mind.

_Time to go._

"Go to bed Weasley." Draco couldn't suppress his edgy tone; her strange awareness of his change in thought was unnerving.

She nodded slowly, stumbling slightly as she stood. Without realizing it, Draco moved swiftly to her side, steadying her. As his hand closed about her arm he could almost feel her very flesh physically shrink away from his touch.

"I'm fine." Ginevra could hear the hysteria in her voice, as she tried to escape.

"Calm down Weasley. Merlin, relax, I'm not going to hurt you."

He released her arm slowly, trying to get a look at her face. There was only one word to describe it. Terror.

_Why Weasley? What makes you so afraid? Or is it, who makes you so afraid?_

Ginevra's lower lip trembled, her entire frame shook with the violence of her shudders as she sought to control herself, "Yyyes.. I know. I'm going to bbbedd. Goodnight Mm..m..malfoy."

"Draco."

"Wwhat?"

"You called me Draco earlier, Weasley."

"Oh." With that she flashed away, running full speed down the stairs.

Draco dusted his robes off, his mind was confused, he didn't like the feeling. Indifference was a safe place to be. It was time to find Blaise; he needed his lover to keep him sane. He paused as a soft whisper came up the stairwell.

"Goodnight… Draco." Her voice was small and unsure.

The shadows played on his face, white flashed in the dark as a small smile graced his face, one of the first for anyone other than Blaise in a long time, as he would later recall.

"Goodnight Ginevra."

A squeak of surprise echoed, then soft footsteps hurried away.

_Why am I so bloody strange when I am around her?_

-----

"Ginny, I have no idea why are you so bloody daft sometimes. Harry and Hermione don't want you hanging about like an annoying puppy. I don't want you around either. So leave us the bloody hell alone."

Ginevra sighed as she stared at her brother's bright red face. "Yes Ron."

His eyes rolled, accustomed to her monosyllabic answer. "You've said yes before, but this time, if you don't leave me alone I'm going to write Mum."

She felt her body locking down. "I promise I won't. I'll stay away."

Ron stared at her, disconcerted by his sister's sudden anxiety, "Err… Relax Gin, I won't. Mum wouldn't do anything anyway, you are her precious Gin-Gin! I bet you ten Sickles she would send a howler straight to me." He grinned at her, his wide artless expression sending a lighting bolt straight into her heart.

_What I would give to be able to smile like that._

Ginevra raised the corners of her lips, hating herself as she let him push her in circles.

"No offense Gin, but a wizard needs his space and his own friends. Can't do it if his little sister is hanging about," He shrugged his shoulders, encouraged by his sister's answering smile. "But if you ever need help kicking someone's ass then you just give me a shout, I love you Gin-Gin." He ruffled her hair lightly then pivoted on his heel as he spotted bushy brown hair flash around the corner. "Hey Mione!"

"Interesting discussion. Sorry, couldn't help but overhear."

She felt a large warm hand pull her toward the source of the melodious voice. "Zabini?"

"Draco told me you called him by his first name. Now why am I still on last name basis with you, Ginevra?" Moss green eyes bore into her, a trace of amusement flashed before returning to the indifferent mask which all Slytherins' wore.

She replied tentatively, "I don't know." _Everything about him is so warm, so safe and comforting; the polar opposite of Draco, yet so alike_.

"Well, I would appreciate it if you didn't make it quite so obvious you prefer him over me. It injures my delicate pride." His tone was mocking, but somehow she knew he meant to be gentle.

"You are strangely engaging for a Slytherin." Ginevra almost slapped herself, _where did that come from?_

He smirked, delighted, "Draco tells me the same, constantly."

"I tell you what, mon amour?" [my love] A pale hand brushed the side of Blaise's neck, Ginevra stared, entranced.

"That I continually ruin the Slytherin image of detachment."

"Yes. You do."

"Weasley a eu une conversation avec sa soeur avant que j'aie révélé." [Weasley had a conversation with his sister before I showed up]

"Détails plus tard." [Details later]

"Oui." [Yes]

Almost imperceptibly Draco's right brow lifted. Ginevra watched their exchange curiously, unaware that her pert mouth had fallen open in admiration. "That was beautiful."

Draco would have laughed in her face, but he wasn't a person with a laughing temperament. "You have a refreshing choice of words, Ginevra." His voice was light.

Both men stared as they saw her cheeks flush a pale pink, finding it delightful, neither could remember the last time they had seen a woman blush.

"Vous avez oublié que mon sang est pur. Je peux parler français comme vous deux pouvez." [You forgot my blood is pure. I can speak French as well as you can.]

It was the first time she had spoken the language aloud in almost five years. When they didn't reply, she became nervous. _Did I cross a line?_ Being with them both was too much for her to bear. The numbness Draco brought helped her forget all the pain, and then Blaises' warmth enveloped her in a tender cocoon. _I have to get away._

"J'ai classe. Au revoir." [I have class. Goodbye.]

Still blown away by the melodious flow of flawless French that had been issued from her delicate lips, Draco and Blaise didn't answer. Taking this as a sign of dismissal, Ginevra fled.

"We need to talk. We need to understand this urge to help her."

Draco merely nodded, his finger tangled absently in Blaises' raven curls.

"Why the bloody fuck do we care?' Blaise stared at Draco, hoping to find an answer on his face.

No such luck.

"I have no bloody idea."


	3. Hiding Behind A Smile

3: Hiding Behind A Smile

_I'm trying to make my heart whole with half of it missing. No wonder it feels impossible. Giving my heart wholly to another, baring my deepest flaws and fears, being accepted and loved unconditionally. At least, at first, then the slow deterioration of my small island of comfort. As all my inadequacies become too much, driving him away from me. I am an abomination. My own family knows I am. All of my former joys being sucked away, leaving only despair;_ she smiled softly,_ quite like a Dementor, except it is a process of my own making._

"Miss Weasley."

The clipped pronunciation of her name snapped Ginevra out of her thoughts, "Yyy..yes, Professor Snape?"

Promptly Snape barked out a series of questions regarding the past lessons work and unthinkingly, Ginevra answered them correctly in quick succession. His lip curled, "Stay after class, Miss Weasley."

"Www…what?"

"What what?" He mocked.

"What do you mean?"

"What do you mean, what do I mean?"

"I answered all your questions, Professor."

"We have matters to discuss."

"What matters?"

"Enough Weasley." There was no doubting the forbidding expression on his face. Ginevra knew she was treading on perilous ground.

"Yes sir."

His mouth twitched, as if he was about to say more, then he turned abruptly and glided to the front of the classroom once more. The rest of the lesson flew by, Ginevra did not need to pay attention to understand the topics they were discussing. She wasn't stupid. Somehow, sorting through the constant buzz of talk in the classroom was easy for her.

"Miss Weasley." If it wasn't Snape, Ginevra swore she heard a small sigh interlaced with his irritated snarl.

"Yy…yes sir?"

"Need I remind you pay attention every second of every class?"

"Nn…no sir."

His eyes rolled upwards fractionally, begging the gods for patience. _Patience and Snape, pfft, I think I've gone insane._

Snape's jaws clenched as he spoke, "Class is dismissed ten minutes early."

Silence.

"Sir?"

"WHAT?" Snape bellowed at the unfortunate student.

"Ten minutes _early_?"

"Don't expect it to happen again. Ever."

"Thank you sir!"

Snape whitened, as if being thanked by a Gryffindor caused him physical pain. Ginevra was sure it did. The class noted this too and immediately gathered their belongings, exiting the classroom before the moody Professor started throwing Unforgivables about. When the last student had filed out, Snape turned to Ginevra.

_Oh dear._

"Miss Weasley, I know you don't pay attention in class, so I have wondered to myself exactly how you will manage to pass all your O.W.L.S and N.E.W.T.S, etc… However, despite all appearances, you manage to retain a constant position at the top of your year."

Dumbledore's soft voice echoed into the classroom, accompanied by Ginny's small sigh of relief, "Severus." He greeted the Professor warmly, "and, ah, Miss Weasley. No need to be anxious, the news are not unpleasant."

"Yes sir."

Ginevra is a tiny little thing, Snape thought to himself as Dumbledore talked to the girl, she managed to fly under the radar but it was undeniable that the young witch was brilliant. There was a darkness to her character and in her eyes he could see the deep contemplation and cunning she tried so hard to conceal. There were hidden depths to her potential power and Snape intended to find out exactly how far she could go._ I know to what House your true allegiance belongs, Miss Weasley, even if you do not._

Her eyes snapped to his, as if she could hear his thoughts. Snape nodded slowly, letting understanding flow into his gaze. Ginevra's eyes dropped, confused.

"We have decided that if you are willing, we would like for you to have some extra guidance with schoolwork from Professor Snape, Miss Weasley."

"Am I not doing well enough?" Her voice sounded frightened.

"No no, quite the opposite, you are an excellent student. However, Professor Snape has expressed a personal interest in supplementing your workload with more advanced… techniques." Dumbledore's voice was kind, but Ginevra could sense an undertone of trepidation.

"Of course, sir."

"Are you sure Miss Weasley?" It felt like Dumbledore was testing her, as his piercing blue eyes studied her bowed head.

"Yes." Ginevra raised her head and pushed her hair out of her face. "I'm sure."

"Very well then. Professor Snape shall provide you with all the details of your new classes." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he looked at the currently very smug Potions Master. Slowly, Dumbledore let himself out of the dungeons, clasping Snape's shoulder as he left.

"Dungeons. Monday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday, after dinner, promptly. All that is necessary will be your wand."

"Yes sir." Ginevra gathered up her belongings as she answered, dropping quills and parchment all about the floor she kept her eyes off the Potions Professor. When she looked up, all she saw was the hem of Snape's robes, as he left to his office.

-----

Ginevra loved the library. She loved the soft whisper of pages flipping, the absence of incessant chatter and the solitude.

Together, from a space between shelves of dusty books, Draco and Blaise observed the young Gryffindor. Her hair was pulled back, in a sloppy bun, while some strands remained to shroud her face. She wasn't studying, although she was surrounded by scrolls and tomes, rather she was just being still, almost meditative. Her pale complexion shone in the dark surroundings, her worn robes were pushed up her arms, exposing soft luminous skin. Blaise noted the slenderness of her wrists and hands as they lay gently on top of an especially large book.

"This is ridiculous, Blaise." Draco commented coldly, humiliated by their childish pursuit.

"Look, just look at her."

"We are _stalking_ a fifth year. _Stalking_."

"Just look!"

Draco resisted the urge to punch something, preferably Blaise, and did as he was told. He had to admit she was enchanting. Something was wrong though. Locking eyes with Blaise, he knew that Blaise had noticed it too. Taking a closer look at her wrists, he tried to look for any signs of self-mutilation. Nothing. Good. _She is extremely skinny, not bordering skeletal but perhaps…_

"We can catch up with her during dinner."

Draco nodded while he wrapped a gentle hand around the base of Blaise's neck. "Let's go."

"But I want to watch her."

"Enough stalking."

"But I – "

"No. Let's go to our room."

"But –"

Draco tightened his grip slightly and Blaise stopped. A smile dancing in his eyes, Blaise grabbed Draco's arm in a lighting fast movement and twisted it behind his back. "Draco, you know better than that."

In another movement to fast to see, Draco released himself and had his wand pressed against Blaise's delicate neck pulse. "Do I?"

Before Blaise could laugh and retaliate, a soft gasp interrupted their play.

"Draco what are you doing to Zabini?"

There she stood. Her wand was held tightly in her small fingers, her dark crimson hair escaping the bun at the nape of her neck as she shook in fright. Both men were frozen, half admiring of her expressive eyes and half scrambling for an explanation.

"Just a minor scrabble." Draco clarified for her as he smoothly relinquished his hold on Blaise.

"It didn't lll…ll…look minor to me." She muttered suspiciously.

"Ginevra darling, what did I say about you making your preference for Draco so obvious? It really does hurt my fragile sensibilities." Blaise informed her cheerfully, advancing towards her slowly, as one would a frightened doe.

"I'm sorry… Blaise, I forgot."

She was nervous, like she was on the verge of a panic attack. Draco was overwhelmed by the sudden need to protect her. _Stop._ He told himself fiercely. _She isn't Mum_.

"Come on, don't look so scared." Blaise told her gently, as he pulled her wand from her trembling fingers.

"I'm not ss… sc… scared." Ginevra whispered.

"Yes you are," Draco said quietly, "although you have no reason to be."

Blaise grinned, "I'm not sure that is true. I'm a pretty scary bloke."

A small smile passed over her elfin features, "I think Draco is menacing than you are, sorry Blaise."

"Damn."

Her smile grew a fraction of an inch, "Honestly, what were you two up to?"

"Working."

"With no parchment, quills, ink or books? I don't think so Draco."

"Sleeping?"

"No Blaise, you were definitely not sleeping."

Their blank expressions made Ginevra giggle, her faint sweet laughter filling their ears, "I guess I don't want to know."

"We are off to the Great Hall, care to accompany us?" Blaise asked, amazed at himself as the question spilled out of his lips.

Draco looked amused, "Yes Ginevra, may we have the honor?"

"Must we eat at the Great Hall?" She asked cautiously.

"No. Blaise and I prefer to eat in the kitchens anyway."

"That is true, I never see you eating in the Great Hall."

Draco arched a platinum eyebrow, "You noticed?"

Her adorable blush was back, "Yes."

Blaise sped away to the table where her belongings lay, carefully placing everything into her bag. Ginevra and Draco followed closely. "You really don't have to do that, here, let me." She leaned forward, picking up a forgotten quill and pulled a small black notebook from under _Hogwarts A History_. Dropping the two items into her bag, she slipped the bag off Blaise's shoulder and rested it on her own.

"Ladies first." Draco murmured as the trio reached the library door.

Ginevra's eyes widened and her cheeks tinted pink, "Thank you."

Blaise smirked as he stopped at the doorframe, "As you said Draco, ladies first." He smothered laughter as he gestured to Draco with his arm.

Draco's eyes rolled at his lover's antics as he stepped through the door. Ginevra turned as she heard a loud "Oomph" ring down the hallway. Her mouth curved upwards slightly as she saw Draco stride down the hall, followed by a slightly hunched Blaise, cradling his stomach.

"Coming Ginevra?" Draco asked as he walked past her, ignoring the glare Blaise was sending his way.

"Yes." She replied, wondering since when these two men had been comfortable enough with her to allow her to witness their banter, something she was sure not many had ever seen.

* * *

A quick note:

Thank you very much reviewers. I appreciate your encouragement. I would love for some more reviews and feedback!

I also would love a _beta._ Please message me if you are interested.

Lastly, I would like to emphasize that anything recognizable does not belong to me.


	4. A Little Drop Of Poison

4: A Little Drop Of Poison

A small smile seemed permanently etched to her mouth, as Ginevra listened to the two Slytherin's raillery. They were so different, Draco's cool and slightly irritated repartee contrasted with Blaise's juvenile retorts, yet somehow they meshed. As Ginevra observed their conversation, she could not go so far to say that they were both being completely open, of course not, but they were not so guarded. She was glad they felt they could be this way around her, but she didn't know why they were being so nice.

_Smiling feels so wrong to me. My mouth feels like it has been distorted and pulled into a shape it isn't supposed to be in. When did this happen to me? When was the last time I smiled voluntarily? When I smile it is usually to appease someone else. To give the appearance that everything is okay. To lie. To shield myself. They are much smarter than I am. Show no emotion at all. I want to do that, but it is too late for me. Too late. I am a pathetic, emotional, useless piece of trash. I don't deserve to be happy._

"Ginevra? I know you like Draco more than me, but please try to intervene when he starts calling me names."

Shaking herself out of her woolgathering, she looked at Blaise shyly, "I don't like Draco more than you. Stop saying that Blaise."

"She's lying." Draco said from behind Ginevra's back.

"Draco, that's mean."

"Everyone likes me better than Blaise."

"Well, I don't."

"Sure." His cool remark was obviously disbelieving.

"I like you both the same." Ginevra tried to explain diplomatically.

Thankfully, they had arrived at the portrait of fruit. Draco's body language was impassive as he reached up to tickle the pear. Quickly they slipped into the kitchen, Blaise still muttering under his breath about the manhandling of his perfect physique.

As the elves swarmed about, Draco waved them away. "What do you want to eat, Ginevra?" His manners were gentlemanly, even when addressing the offspring of his familys' most hated rivals.

She looked about, still overwhelmed. She had never thought she would be having dinner with these two men, let alone talking to them.

"Ginevra," Blaise spoke gently, "Draco and I were just gadding about. Just chose something to eat."

"I don't gad about."

"Fine Draco," Blaise sighed, "_I_ was gadding about."

She spoke in a muted tone, still tentative, "I'm nn… nnn… not very hungry."

They exchanged glances over her head. "Please, eat."

"I'll have some pumpkin soup, if there is any."

Draco looked at her, his face unreadable, "Dobby. Bring Miss Weasley some pumpkin soup and the usual for both Master Blaise and myself."

A muffled look of chagrin shadowed Ginevra's face as she listened. Observing it, Draco smirked and added to the order for her benefit, "Please."

She couldn't help but smile again, "Thank you."

As the happy bustle and chaos of the kitchen continued, Ginevra could feel herself shifting her weight nervously from side to side.

"Did your mother teach you how to speak French? Your enunciation is exquisite." Blaise mentioned casually.

Time stopped.

Ginevra could feel her breaths halt.

All the noise had gone, leaving a dull ringing in her ears.

Draco almost snapped. _That look_. She looked terrified to the point of collapsing. _Like Mum_. His fists clamped together tightly. Blaise observed the two carefully, gauging exactly what he could say, "I apologize, it was rude of me to pry."

A small procession of house elves deposited steaming platters of food and a small bowl of soup on the table where the trio had situated themselves. Ginevra realized belatedly it was the Slytherin House table.

"Here is the food young Masters and Miss Weasley." Dobby squeaked happily.

She smiled faintly as thanks. Draco noted the difference in smiles. This one looked tight, controlled, fake. This girl was going to kill him, _So many familiar memories._ Blaise looked at his lover, _My Draco, so much pain. I wish I could take it all away from you, but please, control yourself around her_. Draco looked especially murderous, not in any way discernable to a normal outsider; he would look like he was bordering between annoyance and vexation. For a Malfoy, a chalk white face, clenched jaw and fisted hands spoke volumes.

Suddenly Ginevra began to devour all the food set before them. It was the most unrestrained Blaise had ever seen her.

_Fill the emptiness._

Draco's eyes narrowed slightly as he scrutinized the witch before him.

"Sorry, just had to do something." She said ashamedly into her bowl of soup. "I'm sorry, I…II…I don't know why I reacted that way."

_Yes you do._

Blaise smiled, "You certainly know how to scoff food for a little Gryff."

She halted her frenzy to stare at him hurtfully, her eyes wide. "You don't think I'm fat do you?"

Blaise had a template answer when a girl asked him that question, something along the lines of, "If you get any fatter I don't know how I will get you through the door we came in by" but before he could open his mouth Draco interrupted.

"No, you are beautiful the way you are. Perfect." His words were kind and his tone was disinterested, however his eyes bore through her own, reassuring her of his sincerity. She grinned, looking adorably impish as she slurped up more soup. Blaise's eyes questioned Draco silently. Draco shook his head minutely, his gaze anchored on the tiny woman before him.

After the dinner had been completely obliterated, the three were in much better spirits. "I have to go back to my dorm." Ginevra said regretfully as they stepped out of the warmth of the kitchen into the hallway. "T… tt… thank you."

Draco nodded, his eyes a subdued grey. Blaise tugged a wayward cerise curl; "We will do this again tomorrow night, if you want."

Soft pink stained her porcelain cheeks, "Yes." Awkwardly she turned, with a little wave, towards the Gryffindor tower.

Blaise made as if to walk towards the dungeons, but a strong hand restrained him. "Wait Blaise. Just look." Draco repeated what his lover had said only an hour ago. "Just look."

Together they trailed her swiftly, following as she deviated from her path and headed to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

Draco paused. Blaise looked to his lover, feeling on edge when he saw the grimness in Draco's eyes.

"What?"

"Listen."

"Listen for what?"

"You will know. Just listen."

Together they listened, Blaise with morbid curiosity and Draco with a steely anticipation.

There.

A splash.

A gargle.

Then heaving, as Ginevra purged herself of all the nourishment in her stomach.

"Sweet Merlin." Blaise whispered.

"I knew it."

"How?"

"My Mum, Blaise."

A hand wound itself around Draco's neck. Unyieldingly, Blaise used the leverage to crush his forehead against his lovers'.

"It wasn't your fault."

"I knew everything, yet I did nothing. I could have stopped her."

"We can stop _her_." Blaise whispered softly, tilting both their heads with his firm grip toward the bathroom.

"Why?" Draco asked emotionlessly.

"This is why we care, because we can help her the way no one else can."

Clear, grey depths filled with pain, regret and sadness no seventeen year old should have to understand.

"Yes."

::::::

It had been two nights since she had had dinner with Draco and Blaise. They did offer to meet her again the next night, but when time came around she had stayed in her room. The two Slytherin's searched for her in briefly, shrugging their shoulders and giving up.

"Laissez-la venir à nous." [Let her come to us] was Draco's only comment. Blaise agreed and they both left to their room after a moment of silence.

::::::

The third night, Ginevra slid out of her room quietly and headed towards Snape's office for her lesson. Something had been bothering her about the two Slytherins. Why would they bother to be nice to a non-entity like her? It made no sense.

So, she had hidden in her room the night she was supposed to meet them for dinner, as well as the next. Tonight would be no different. Ginevra remained alert for any flashes of blonde hair or viridescent eyes as she followed the corridors further and further down into Hogwarts' dungeons.

"Weasley."

She jumped. The voice was behind her.

"Weasley!"

She relaxed. The voice was feminine. Slowly she wheeled about and came face to face with Pansy Parkinson. The girl had become startlingly beautiful. While Ginevra was slender, Pansy had sensuous curves. Her luscious lips and fountain of sleek brown hair were attractive but it was Pansy's eyes which were a particularly startling shade of violet that intrigued most of the Hogwarts male populace.

"Yyyy… yy… yes?"

"Draco and Blaise were looking for you."

"Were they?"

"Yes."

They stared at each other awkwardly.

"Why?" Pansy probed.

"Why what?" Ginevra noted that Pansy's tone was not antagonistic, merely inquisitive and somewhat guarded.

"Why were they looking for you?"

"I ddd… don't know."

"I think you do."

"I don't."

Pansy's eyes glinted with contained mirth. "You aren't going to tell me anything."

"Nnn… nn… no." Ginevra's tiny smile reflected the female Slytherin's amusement.

Ginevra stared at the serpentine smile suspiciously, "What?"

Pansy's purple orbs were gleaming with curiosity. This girl was definitely interesting. She could see why Draco and Blaise were intrigued.

"Ginevra, I don't think you even know."

Ginevra kept her eyes down, _how did Pansy Parkinson know my name?_

"I don't."

"Didn't think so."

"Ttt…. Tt… tell me."

"Tell you what?" _Is Pansy Parkinson teasing me?_

"Tell me why."

"Why what?" _Yes she is. Definitely._

"Why were ttt… t… they looking for me?"

"Wouldn't tell you even if I did know." Pansy smiled stiffly before she walked away into the darkness. "I like you Ginevra. If you visit them, invite me."

As the Slytherin disappeared, Ginevra continued to her journey, envying Pansy her dark beauty and confidence. Yet, she was startled by what the girl had said to her. Somehow the people Ginevra thought would reject her outright were the only people in the world who had any interest in her.

::::::

"Do you know why I've asked you to come for additional lessons, Miss Weasley?"

Ginevra shook her head, opting not to speak. She could sense that Snape was in a foul mood.

"It is because you are a particularly talented student. It is a pity such talent is _wasted_ on a Gryffindor, however, I will not neglect my duties as your Professor." Snape's dark eyes glinted as he shot another question her way, "What do you know of the dark magic, Miss Weasley?"

"Dd… ddd… d…dd… dark magic, sir?" Ginevra felt herself stuttering more and more.

"Yes. The ancient magicks."

"Excuse me ss… sss… sir, does Professor Dumbledore kn… knnn… know this is what you are teaching mm… m… me?"

"No." Snape's voice was laced with chagrin.

"I don't know anytt… ttt… thing about dark mag… ggg… gic." She was horrified when she heard herself speak, she hadn't stuttered this much since she left home.

"Miss Weasley if you do not cease your interminable stuttering I shall take away house points. I'm sure you don't want that."

"Yes sir." Ginevra whispered.

Snape's dark eyes drilled into her own, "You know of dark magic, Miss Weasley. I know you do."

"No." She answered faintly.

An eyebrow raised and at that moment, she thought the Professor looked very much like Draco. "Where does your mind meander then, Miss Weasley? As you sit in class with a dopey vacant expression on your face?"

"I don't know…"

"Explorations into the depths of The Abyss perhaps?"

She stiffened. "I don't know what you mean, sir."

Snape hissed softly. "Don't you _dare_ lie to me."

"Why?" Ginevra dared.

"Don't think I don't know what you are hiding, Miss Weasley."

Ginevra froze.

::::::

Snape watched as her eyes went blank. Her soul was gone from her body.

Ginevra released everything. All her anger, pain and rage was gone. She retreated to where she felt _strong_. Snape smirked as he watched her eyes shine dimly with fires of Tophet.

"Dark magic is ancient. The Unforgivables stem from it, but they are only the beginning to what one can do."

"Yes." Ginevra spoke softly within her mind.

"You have only skimmed the surface of this power. I shall teach you how to harness it and to go deeper." Professor Snape's demand echoed about her mind.

Ginevra was entranced with the echoing quality of his voice as her soul-self sat surrounded by fire.

"I knew you had enough anger. I knew you had enough power."

"Yes sir."

Ginevra gasped as her soul suddenly slammed back into her body. It was cold in the Potions classroom. Snape stood a few feet away from her. "Friday."

Ginevra nodded slowly. She clutched her bag, her hands shaking. "Professor Snape?"

"What?"

"Why did you really decide to teach me?"

He stood silently for a moment, "Very few are capable of this. Even fewer are worthy. I have always known you were both."

Just as Ginevra was about to exit the classroom, she heard him continue to speak.

"I also knew that you needed a place to be safe, Miss Weasley."

Without rotating she inclined her head, "Thank you."

::::::

_I feel so trapped. Hemmed within the confines of my own weaknesses; vulnerability and stupidity. Caged within this fleshy prison. The weightlessness I feel in Gehenna is the only taste of freedom I have. It is always so beautiful. A place where I have the power, where I can decide to be angry, sad or happy. Instead of the perpetual subservience I must display for the world. So degrading. I have no pride, I am just a pathetic burden on the shoulders of society._

This self-pity was really getting out of hand. She knew it, but she couldn't help herself. Ginevra had borrowed a broom from the school; Madame Hooch had always had a soft spot for the quiet Gryffindor, and was swirling about the three hoops on the Quidditch field. The adrenaline rush from swirling about the drafts of wind was one of her few means of feeling an emotion other than pain. Heart stopping turns and dives were the most fun. Knowing that she could end her own life was empowering, _albeit bordering on extreme foolishness. _Her broom screeched to a stop. _Where on earth did that thought come from? _

As she sat there, hovering above the Quidditch hoops, Ginevra wondered where that sarcastic comment had come from. It was different, to think something that gave her some hope that perhaps her elimination from this world would be wrong.

::::::

"What is she doing?"

"She wants to die."

"I asked what she was doing, not if she wanted to die."

"I know." Piercing cyan eyes bore into jade, "I wasn't answering your question."

Loving hands warmed his cold cheeks. "Je t'aime Draco. N'oubliez pas jamais cela je t'aime." [I love you, Draco. Don't ever forget that I love you.]

"Je pas." [I won't.]

"She is a beautiful, intelligent and tortured woman, tellement comme votre mere." [So much like your mother.]

"Oui." [Yes.]

"Mais Ginevra n'est pas elle. Elle appartient à une famille de sang-traître. Elle est un Gryffindor. Peut-être nous ne devrions pas nous concerner par son bien-être plus long." [But Ginevra is not her. She belongs to a blood-traitor family. She is a Gryffindor. Perhaps we should not concern ourselves with her well-being any longer.]

"Perhaps. Yet, Blaise, we are still watching her. It is not like you to abandon something, nor be so pessimistic." A hint of humor was interlaced with Draco's normally unemotional tone.

"True. I am just worried about you." Blaise replied quietly, his fingers enjoying the familiar silkiness of Draco's hair.

"Don't worry about me."

"I will always worry about you."

"Maybe that is what Ginevra needs. Someone to worry about her."

"Everyone needs someone to care."

"Yes."

Silence followed. They both turned on their heels, moving away from main doors which had framed their perfect forms for the past few minutes. As they headed towards the Slytherin common room, Blaise had a thought flash briefly through his mind, _what if she fell and neither he nor Draco would be there watching_?

With that thought reverberating in his mind, he turned full circle and headed out to the Quidditch field, noting that Draco had read his mind and was following without protest.

::::::

"Ginevra."

"Yes?" She wondered temporarily if she had gotten in the way of a Quidditch practice, but on second thought remembered that there were very few people in the entire school who called her by her full name.

"You missed dinner with us, the other night."

A beautiful golden halo was rising in the air on her left and on her right, hair as black as night was ascending simultaneously into her line of vision.

"Why?" Blaise asked quietly as the trio stared out into the horizon. Ginevra could sense no animosity in his voice. Merely a detached curiosity that was strangely painful to hear.

"I'm scared of you."

"Both of us?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I don't know."

"You do." Draco spoke for the first time. A statement.

She didn't want to answer.

Instead she asked, "Have you ever felt so lonely that you would rather die than have to live through another moment in this universe?"

Silence permeated the cool air; a comfortable, pensive atmosphere. Perhaps it really was just her who thought such things. Maybe she was really, very truly, alone.

"Sometimes, but not as much as before."

Ginevra rotated her head towards Draco, a small glimmer of hope burbling up deep within her breast.

"Truly?"

Blaise smiled quietly to himself at her strange wording, he was beginning to find it an endearing trait.

"There were times when I would marvel at the fragility of my flesh, wondering if it was that way simply to mock me; to dare me to break it. That my very escape was so easily within my grasp and yet…" Draco trailed off, his habitually unaffected tone so deep she could scarcely hear him, "… I was always too weak and could not reach for it."

She felt moisture gathering the corners of her eyes, her tears blurring and twisting the world in a hot flood. A cool hand dabbed her eyes carefully. Looking up ashamedly, Ginevra was surprised to see icy eyes staring at her. Draco said nothing more and his hand dropped after, what felt to her, a microsecond. Yet, she knew that there was finally someone. Finally.

Blaises' chocolate tenor pierced the silence, "Come on and get us something to eat. Ginevra still owes us a meal."

Ginevra felt a genuine smile light her face, thankful for his jovial quips. Quietly contemplating his back, she knew that Blaise understood Draco and, now to an extent, herself. He was there to bring laughter and joy.

"Thank you."

Heartfelt gratitude and accepting quietude floated about as they descended lazily towards the green lawn.

* * *

Longest chapter so far.

IR! Ideas and Reviews!


	5. Sweet Disposition

5: Sweet Disposition

As her feet touched the soft grass of the Quidditch pitch, Ginevra couldn't help but smile quietly to herself as she thought of the picture the three of them made. She assumed it would have been thought to be the strangest sight the Hogwarts populace would have ever beheld. The youngest and only female Weasley descending lazily from the clouds, tailed by two of the most notorious Slytherin men in the school.

Blaise glanced over at her discreetly. The crimson rays of the sun had spilt over her face, catching the matching shades of her hair. It seemed to almost caress and absorb the beautiful color, contrasting with her pale skin in an indescribably beautiful way. He wished that he could capture the moment and re-live it over and over again. He felt Draco give him a side-ways glance over her head and he saw a flash of vulnerability in his lover's eyes.

_I love you. _He projected the thought out from his eyes, loving how Draco's eyes turned cobalt blue. It was a shade that was just for him. It's when he knew that Draco was saying it right back. _I love you too._

As his eyes slid from Draco's, he saw chocolate eyes dart to the ground.

"I'm, um, going to p..pp…put my broom away."

"Don't think that you are going to get away from us that easily, Ginevra. You still owe us dinner." Blaise's tone made it clear that he would brook no arguments, but his tentative, small smile made the statement more of a question than a command.

But still, Ginevra could feel her cheeks burning. _Stupid girl, how could you possibly think that you could ever be a part of something as profound as they have? How could that thought even have entered your mind? _

Even as the thought raced through her mind, she reached blindly for her broom and was horrified to find herself falling face first into the ground. Somehow her robes had gotten tangled in her legs, which had tripped over the bristles of the broom that had stuck out higgledy-piggledy.

Draco's mind immediately went into overdrive. _She is so tiny, she is bound to break_. All of a sudden he found himself flashing back. Images of fragile limbs being rent apart, blood seeping slowly across pale skin almost as if to a song; a slow march of death. Pain so immense, in so diminutive a creature. He lunged forward, gaining momentum, it seemed, not only from gravity but from the sheer weight of his memories. He grabbed her, cushioning her fall with his own body only to realize that the grass beneath their bodies was as soft as down.

She was in total shock. _What in the name of Merlin just happened?_ Her eyes peeked out at him from under his cloak which had fallen all about them. A bark of laughter burst out to their left.

Blaise could barely contain himself, "Draco, I had no idea you were so chivalrous!" The last word was punctuated with, much to Draco's chagrin, a most unrefined snort. The three paused a moment, as Blaise's comment echoed about the Quidditch pitch. Then all of a sudden, Ginevra felt a deep rumbling in the chest beneath her. She peered downward and saw sparkling eyes and heard an undeniable, albeit momentary, chuckle from the Slytherin King of Ice.

"I do apologize Ginevra. I don't know what came over me." She felt the warmth in his voice travel all the way from her eyes down to her toes.

She paused, then a trickle of her own laughter joined theirs, "Was that really necessary? The grass is much softer than you are."

"You are right."

She felt herself being lifted, light as a feather from the cozy heat of Draco's body by a pair of strong hands, the same pair then assisting Draco up and dusting him off. Blaise smiled down at her, "Dinner?"

"Yes."

"Good."

* * *

It's been a long time, this is short, but I thought I would see what would happen if I took this story up again.


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